


Behind Bars

by leafingbookstea



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: #PFF, F/M, Handcuffed Together, phrack - Freeform, the 39 steps - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafingbookstea/pseuds/leafingbookstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan Page in The 39 Steps + My Imagination = Phryne + Jack + Handcuffs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Bars

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I needed to do this after my last fic. There is a scene from “The 39 Steps” that was begging to be re-written as Phrack smut. Sadly, I have not seen Nathan’s performance, nor will I be able to (*wails*) but this is timely given the gift he sent us today. Go to his website if you don’t know what I mean.
> 
> It is not quite Friday where I am, but it is for some of you, so it counts for #PFF

            “Really, Jack, I would have given you the evidence, I always do. Eventually.”

 

            With her back to him in the cell, she managed to get her right hand free of the handcuffs with the help of her pearl-handled lock pick.

 

            Jack closed the cell door with a long-suffering sigh. “Would that have been before or after you tossed it into the Yarra, Miss Fisher?”

 

            Phryne sat down on the bench next to the bars, “That wasn’t planned, Inspector, you know that full well.” He grabbed a stool from the alcove and sat next to her, only the bars between them.

 

            “And besides,” she continued, “I did try to retrieve them. At great cost to my shoes, I might add.”

 

            “And your stockings,” he noted, glancing at her still wet ankles.

 

            “You’ve been looking at my ankles, Jack?” she asked with a twinkle.

 

            He ignored her attempt to bait him. “I’ve had Collins fetch Dot to bring you a new pair of both. You will be here for a while, Miss Fisher; I wouldn’t want you to catch pneumonia.”

 

            “And,” he added, reaching through the bars to pull the lock pick from her right hand and toss it out of the cell, “you won’t be needing that.”

 

            Phryne growled her surprise and before she knew what she thinking, pulled Jack’s right arm through the bars and put the loose cuff on his wrist.

 

            “Phryne!” Jack sputtered, taking his hand out of the cell and Phryne’s with it. “What have you done?”

 

            “Ow!” She cried out, “My arm doesn’t bend that way!”

 

            “You should have thought of that before you put the cuff on me!” He retorted with a huff.

 

            “You are being ridiculous, Jack. Take out your key and get us out of this.”

 

            “That will be a problem Miss Fisher,” he said, each word deliberate, “The key is on my desk.”

 

            “What good is it to us there? Really, Jack, I would think you of all people would have a little more foresight.”

 

            “I must be slipping,” he replied dryly, “I should, of course, have known you were going to handcuff me to you.”

 

            “Whatever it takes to get your attention.” A flash of a smirk appeared on her lips.

 

            Phryne crossed her legs, her cuffed hand resting on the bar above Jack’s. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his gaze on her exposed knee, and followed it as it slid down to her ankles.

 

            “I probably should remove these.” Her head tilting to indicate her shoes, “my stockings are soaking wet.”

 

            Jack looked up at her face. Had she placed special emphasis on that last word?

 

            “You are going to need my help, Miss Fisher.” His eyes locked with hers. _I’m calling your bluff,_ he thought.

 

            “Thank you for being willing to lend a helping hand.” She said, the wicked glint in her eyes unmistakable.

 

            Taking Jack’s hand in hers, Phryne carefully brought his arm through until his shoulder was pressed in between the bars. She grabbed the blanket from the cot to put under her feet, carefully toed off her Mary Janes and slowly lifted her skirt. Jack’s hand followed, the backs of his fingers lightly brushing her outer thigh. She unhooked the front clasp on the garter, and then moved to undo the back. His hand turned over, his long fingers caressing the inside of her thigh. She closed her eyes a moment to savor his touch.

 

            Jack could feel Phryne’s soft skin through the silk of her stockings as she slid the left one down and off, bending her leg to reach her foot. He was pleased with himself for confiscating her dagger along with her gun before putting her in the cell, though not so pleased about forgetting the lock pick. Still, he was glad he had told Collins to take his time going to Wardlow. While this situation was not what he had envisioned in his fantasies, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity either.

 

            He kept a light touch on her knee, making small circles with one finger. Phryne hitched her skirt a little higher, moving her hands to unhook the stocking on her right leg. Jack’s hand was between her knees, his fingers continuing to torment her with his soft touch. She lifted her leg to reach the back clasp and his hand cupped her at her center.

 

            Jack’s eyes flew to hers, looking for permission to continue. He saw the desire in her eyes, heard her whispered, “Yes, Jack,” and he pushed her knickers to one side.

 

            Phryne opened her legs a little wider, allowing him better access. Jack’s fingers slid along her folds and circled her clit. He caressed the nub with his thumb and pushed one long finger into her core. She felt so incredible to him, her inner lips hot and wet with her desire. He continued to stroke her, watching her eyes and hearing her soft intake of breath when he found the right spots.

 

            Phryne was panting now, biting her lip to stifle the sounds of her desire. His finger was inside her, his thumb pleasuring her clit, his eyes continued to watch her. The exquisite sensation of these small movements and the intensity of his gaze were too much for her. Her free hand flew to her mouth to cover her cry of ecstasy as she climaxed.

 

            Jack marveled at the feeling of Phryne’s orgasm on his fingers, the passion in her eyes, the blissful sounds she made. He was hard enough to tent his trousers just watching her. He gave a last, soft touch to her clit before removing his hand. She gasped softly at the loss of his fingers. He slowly moved his arm out from between the bars, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, and brought his hand to his mouth to taste her essence. Phryne watched his every movement in a relaxed haze. He licked first his fingers, then took her hand and kissed her palm. The taste of her stiffened his cock even more. She lowered their hands to slide up the inside of his thigh.

 

            “Sir?” Hugh Collins called out, “are you with Miss Fisher?”

 

            “Yes, Collins,” Jack cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound less gruff, “and bring a handcuff key with you.”

 

            Jack quickly grabbed a handkerchief out his pocket with his free hand to clean the rest of his fingers, putting his hand and Phryne’s back on the cell bar.

 

            “Miss, I have another pair of …” Dot came around the corner and stopped short when she saw Miss Phryne and the Inspector, and the handcuffs between them. “How did you…?”

 

            “That’s a story for another time, Dot” Phryne interrupted, seeing Collins approaching too. “Hugh, do be a dear and get us out of this, will you?”

 

            “Uh, sir …”

 

            “Do as the lady asks, Collins, and don’t ask. Please, don’t ask.”

 

            Hugh unlocked the cuffs, first for Jack, then Phryne. They simultaneously rubbed their bruised wrists.

            “You open the cell, Collins, Miss Fisher is free to go.”

 

            Hugh did as he was told and Dot stepped into the cell to give Phryne dry stockings and shoes.

 

            “I’m going to put my stockings on in a more private place, thank you, Dot.” Phryne said, slipping her bare feet into the shoes and handing over her wet things.

 

            She looked at Jack. “Unless you have arrest paperwork to finish, Inspector, will you follow me back to my house for a nightcap? I must make it up to you,” flicking a quick glance down below his belt, “for all that you have been through today.”

 

            “Thank you, Miss Fisher,” he replied, “it would be my pleasure.”

 

            Phryne followed Dot and Hugh out of the cells, turning back once more to whisper to Jack, “It will be mine too.”


End file.
